


Baby, I'd give you the world if I could

by Lifeisruined



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, barba's in love okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 03:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11637774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lifeisruined/pseuds/Lifeisruined
Summary: It starts with a tie. It starts with a nice, blue, purple, and grey striped tie. Rafael doesn’t even mean to buy the fucking thing; it just kind of...happens. He’s not fully aware of what he’s doing until he leaves the store with the tie.





	Baby, I'd give you the world if I could

**Author's Note:**

> Also known as "the one where Barba is low-key Sonny's sugar daddy" because I have no self control
> 
> I also have a tumblr (cryingaboutbroadway)

It starts by accident. Or, at least, that’s what Rafael will say if he’s ever asked. He’ll take the truth to the grave, it’s that embarrassing. He can play ignorant, if the need arises. There’s no need for _anybody_ to ever know the truth.

It starts with a tie. It starts with a nice, blue, purple, and grey striped tie. Rafael doesn’t even mean to buy the fucking thing; it just kind of...happens. He’s not fully aware of what he’s doing until he leaves the store with the tie.

With winter approaching, and a hole in his favorite coat, Rafael goes to buy a new one. It’s Sunday, Sonny’s at church and then eating brunch with his family on Staten Island, so Rafael doesn’t feel bad about spending time off at the store instead of with Sonny. Rafael has a coat in hand, ready to leave, when he passes the ties, and he promises himself he’s just gonna look. He doesn’t need _another_ tie.

(He makes no promises about suspenders; he leaves with the coat and a new set of purple ones.)

So there he is, scanning the tie racks, running his fingers over the ones that catch his eye, when he sees It. And, yes, it deserves to be capitalized because he stands there, brain whirling, fingers clutching at the silk, for a few moments. It’s such a lovely tie. He can just imagine--

No. No, he can’t imagine himself wearing it because, when he inspects the tie closer, the blue almost perfectly matches the color of Sonny’s eyes. And he can just picture it--Sonny wearing this tie, his eyes looking particularly bright and blue. Sonny will look beautiful, the tie will look beautiful on him, and Rafael snatches it off the rack without a second thought. He pauses to consider searching for a suit to match the tie, but he gets distracted by the suspenders and leaves without thinking about the tie.

When he’s done, outside the store, walking back toward his apartment, he thinks about what he just did. The tie will probably be the most expensive piece of clothing Sonny owns. Knowing him, Sonny will only want to wear it for special occasions, too afraid of ruining it. Rafael will have to talk him into wearing it to work. Rafael thinks it will be worth it.

It’s only when he gets home that he realizes he has no reason to be giving Sonny a tie at all. It’s October--Christmas is too far, as is Sonny’s birthday in February, and their one-year anniversary just passed two weeks ago. He could, possibly, pass it off as a belated anniversary present, but on the actual day, he gifted Sonny a beautiful new watch. Sonny will be either suspicious or guilty that he didn’t buy anything for Rafael.

Rafael debates slipping the tie in Sonny’s stuff in the closet, hopefully to never talk about it again, but Sonny would notice immediately. It would stick out like a sore thumb among the cheaper ties. Sonny would know Rafael bought it for him. He’d make a big deal out of thanking Rafael.

Rafael lays the tie on the coffee table and sets to work on his files, occasionally glancing at the tie. He doesn’t know what he wants to do with it. How he wants to present it to Sonny. And when the front door opens, Sonny calling out a hello, he stands, ignoring the tie.

“How was brunch?” Rafael asks after a kiss, moving his stuff so Sonny can sit next to him.

Sonny babbles about church and his family--Gina’s engaged again--and it’s only when he stops mid-sentence that Rafael remembers the tie. He glances up, sees those gorgeous blue eyes fixed on the tie, and looks back at his work.

“Wow,” Sonny breathes. He reaches out, hand pausing in mid-air, hesitating, before letting his fingers trail over the tie. “Oh, wow, Rafi, this is amazing.” He picks it up, careful not to crease it, as he says, “This will look so good on you.” He flips the tie over Rafael’s shoulder, tugging it around his neck. “Yeah. It looks great.”

Rafael doesn’t look up from his work when he tells Sonny, “I didn’t buy it for me.”

There’s a pause. “Oh. _Oh_. Oh! For me?”

Rafael’s eyes flicker up. “No, I bought it for Fin.”

Sonny’s smile is blinding, though. He drapes the tie around his own neck, smile dimming to shy. “How does it look?” he asks softly, torn between staring at the tie and Rafael.

Rafael reaches out to tie it, letting his hands linger on Sonny’s chest once he’s done. “Much too young for me,” he says finally. “How do you like it?”

Sonny--he rolled his eyes at the first comment--responds, “I love it. What’s it for?”

Rafael shrugs. “Just to make you happy.”

“Oh.” Sonny’s undoing the tie, slowly and carefully. “I don’t have anywhere to wear this. Gina’s wedding, if that ever happens. Though, she swears he’s the _one,_ Rafi, so maybe I’ll be in luck.”

“If it’s just going to sit in your closet, I’m taking it back,” Rafael comments. He’s quite pleased when he sees Sonny clutch the tie closer to his chest, like he’s afraid Rafael will rip it out of his hands right that minute. “It’s meant to be seen. Wear it to work. Liv will be impressed.”

Sonny leans over, quickly pressing a kiss to Rafael’s cheek, mumbling a thanks, and stands before Rafael even registers it. He’s ambling toward the bedroom, tie in hand. Rafael watches him go, satisfied, before clearing his throat, turning back to his work. That went well.

(And tomorrow morning, when Sonny leaves wearing the tie, Rafael ends up making them both a little late, but it’s okay because Sonny leaves looking dazed, lips thoroughly kissed, and that tie crooked.)

***

Money isn’t an issue between them. Never has been. Rafael has money to spend, likes to spend, and Sonny has student loans and rent that take up most of his paycheck. Sometimes Sonny mentions how he wishes he could buy nice things for people--Rafael, his sisters, his parents--but other than that, Sonny doesn’t complain about the money he doesn’t have. Rafael admires that. He spent his entire life wishing for nice things, better things than what he owned, and now that he has the means, he doesn’t ever want to go back.

Rafael likes to buy things, for himself and others. His mother once told him he likes to show off, brag in a way, about what he has. Rafael never denied it. Why should he not live up to his standards?

Sonny’s using his laptop when he comes home. Not that he cares; Sonny’s allowed to do whatever he wants in the apartment. Rafael drops a kiss to the top of his head as he passes on his way to the bedroom. He changes into sweats and a t-shirt, grabbing his book off the nightstand before he heads back into the living room.

Dinner’s cooking. Rafael can smell it. Sonny smiles at him when he sits in his recliner, tells him they can eat in ten minutes, and goes back to the computer. He’s staring rather intently at the screen, brow furrowed.

Rafael watches him, head cocked to the side. “Everything okay?”

“Hm?” Sonny’s head snaps up. “Oh, yeah. My camera broke today, so I’m looking at a new one.” He shakes his head. “All the good ones are fucking expensive. I’m pretty sure I paid half this when I bought mine.”

Rafael puts his book on the table, going to lean over Sonny’s shoulder, hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “Which are you looking at?”

Sonny scrolls to the bottom of the page, clicks on a camera. “This one,” he admits. “It’s better than my old one. _Way_ better. But I can either buy it and not eat for a month or…” He shrugs, hitting the back button. He scrolls toward the middle of the page, clicking on another camera. “This isn’t as great, but it’ll do. It’s not like I’m a professional, you know?”

But he sounds kind of upset, and Rafael knows how much photography means to Sonny. He must’ve been heartbroken when his camera broke. His heart is probably still hurting from the thought of not being able to take the kind of pictures he wants. Rafael pats his shoulder as he stands. He disappears into the bedroom, digs his credit card from his wallet, and goes back to Sonny.

“Buy it,” he says simply, extending the card.

Sonny’s eyes flicker from the card to the laptop to Rafael’s face. “Oh, no, I can’t.”

“Fine. I’ll buy it.” He goes to take the laptop, but Sonny tightens his grip on it, eyeing Rafael warily. He sighs. “Sonny, baby, let me do this for you. We both know you won’t be happy without that camera. You’ll bitch and moan and threaten to never take pictures again.”

“You’d love that.”

As true as that is--“That’s besides the point.”

They stare at each other for a few minutes before Sonny breaks, sighing. He snags the credit card. “Thank you,” he says.

Rafael nods, hoping the _of course_ is implied, and kisses Sonny gently. He goes to check on dinner. He’s taking it out of the oven when Sonny appears, fingering the card nervously. He lays it on the counter, fingers lingering before pushing it toward Rafael.

“I bought it,” he says.

“Good.” Rafael grabs two plates and forks. “Wine or beer?”

“Beer.”

Rafael grabs a bottle for Sonny and a glass for his scotch. He smiles when two arms wrap around his waist, lips pressing against the back of his neck. “You have to promise to not take pictures of me,” he says.

Sonny protests immediately. Rafael has long been his favorite subject. It’s why Rafael dreads going anywhere with the man.

“No, those are my terms. You get a camera, I get some peace.”

Sonny pouts. He drops his forehead on Rafael’s shoulder. “You just gotta ruin all my fun, don’t you?”

“It’s what I strive for.” Rafael chuckles when Sonny whines, then bites his lip when Sonny changes tactics and nips at Rafael’s neck. “Sonny,” he warns.

“Just one?” Sonny mumbles, kissing his way up to Rafael’s ear, taking it between his teeth to tug. “No one’s gonna see, sweetheart. I just want one. Maybe of both of us. For my desk?”

“You have one already.” Sonny has two pictures on his desk--one of his family and one of them together. It’s a rather romantic picture, for all that it’s cheesy. Taken during Christmas last year, at Liv’s get together for the squad, it’s a picture of Sonny and Barba standing in the kitchen, kissing sweetly, Noah’s little hand holding mistletoe above their heads barely seen in the background (Fin picked him up, gave him the mistletoe, promised him a cookie if he held it above the couple).

Rafael remembers the first day he walked into the precinct, to meet with Liv for a case, and stopping dead in his tracks after catching a glimpse of the frame on Sonny’s desk. He hated how intimate it was, how that intimacy was on display for all to see (they’re out; they disclosed, it’s no secret for the NYPD or the DA’s office), but Sonny was so, _so_ happy. Rafael didn’t have the heart to tell him to get rid of it.

“You hate that picture,” Sonny says. He smiles into the skin of Rafael’s neck, hand sliding beneath his shirt, resting warm and heavy on his stomach.

“Yes, but I fear what you’ll replace it with.” He lets Sonny have one more bite before slipping away. “Ask me when you get the camera. For now, I’m starving, and this smells amazing.”

Rafael forgets about the camera until it arrives the next week. When Sonny comes to Rafael’s, he’s rambling about everything it can do, how amazing the test shots look. He’s so excited that Rafael knows it was totally worth the dent in his checking account.

Sonny holds it up to his face with a mischievous grin. “Can I?”

Rafael’s in his home office, feet on his desk, purple socks on to match his purple suspenders, tie loosened, hair ruffled (thanks to Sonny’s enthusiastic greeting when he walked through the door). He is not amused. “No.”

“Oh, come on, Rafi! You look so handsome right now. Everyone will be so jealous that my partner’s the best looking guy around.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” He says this even as he reaches up to smooth his hair down, straighten his tie. “If you get your picture, will you stop asking?”

Sonny nods eagerly.

“Fine. How do you want me?”

Sonny looks surprised for all of a second before his expression shifts to serious, studying Rafael with such intent Rafael actually squirms. “You look great,” he finally says, lifting the camera up. “Smile, baby.”

Sonny gets two pictures--the first with Rafael scowling and then one of Rafael actually laughing because Sonny knows how to push his buttons in ways Rafael didn’t even know existed. It’s a nice picture, actually. It’s flattering.

Rafael squeezes Sonny’s wrist. “Get rid of the other one,” he says before getting back to work.

He hears a click behind him, but he smiles to himself, choosing to let Sonny have his fun. He doesn’t mind suffering if it means Sonny’s happy. He only argues so Sonny doesn’t get any ideas about having Rafael wrapped around his finger.

***

He knows what he’s doing. He knows he spends a crazy amount of money on Sonny. He’s not stupid, okay? He pays for clothes, things for Sonny’s family, dates, anything really. Sonny pays, sometimes, but that’s not the point. Rafael would willingly drop hundreds of dollars on Sonny in a day if it made Sonny happy, and that’s a problem. He can’t spend the rest of his life buying everything that might make Sonny happy. He’d go broke in a week.

Rafael is a smart man, okay, but he’s also a weak man. When it comes to Sonny, he can’t say no. He can’t tell _himself_ no when he latches onto the idea about how great something will make Sonny look or how excited he’ll be. It’s why he buys season tickets for the Mets for Sonny’s birthday and pays for new suits to replace Sonny’s old, cheap ones  (though he has ulterior motives for that one). The point is: Rafael has a weak spot and too much money to spend.

Sonny hasn’t acknowledged it. He takes the gifts, thanks Rafael with a kiss, and wears or uses the gift proudly. He’s stopped questioning why Rafael buys him things.

Rafael just hopes he won’t ever ask.

That doesn’t stop him from asking Sonny to move in with him. He asks one night when they’re watching TV on the couch, both too tired to do anything more than lay together, and Sonny’s blue eyes go so wide and he stutters out a “Seriously?”

“You don’t have to,” Rafael tells him, eyeing him warily. “It’s just that you’re here most of the time anyway. But you can say no.”

Sonny blinks at him.

He switches tactics, using the arm around Sonny to reel him in to press a kiss to his cheek. “You love my apartment, right?” Another kiss, this time to his jaw. “It’d be great to have you here.” A kiss to his ear. “I miss you when you’re gone.” He pulls away suddenly, leaning back against the couch. “But I don’t wanna pressure you.” He reaches out for the remote.

Sonny looks as if he’s trying to process what just happened. “I--I mean, I miss you, too. But.” He puts a hand on Rafael’s cheek, turning his head toward him, smiling softly. “You’d have to live with my suits in your closet.”

Rafael wrinkles his nose. “In that case, I take it back. You can come, but your suits cannot.”

Sonny chuckles, sliding onto Rafael’s lap, giving him a swift kiss. “Okay. So I move in. Where’s all my stuff gonna go?”

Rafael isn’t a cluttered person. Everything has a place, and all of the shelves in his apartment is filled with something. Books, DVDs, records, something. But, well--”We’ll find somewhere.”

“Can I have a spot in your office?”

Rafael huffs. Sonny doesn’t work from home if he can help it. The second he steps through the door, work falls away. When he says as much out loud, Sonny rolls his eyes and says, “It’s the _gesture_ , Rafi.”

“Okay, you can have a metaphorical spot in my office.”

It’s when Rafael’s unpacking the boxes that are now cluttering his living room that he finds it. Sonny was helping, but he got a call about a case an hour ago, so Rafael’s now alone in their apartment, unpacking Sonny’s things. He’s making his way through the mess, finding places for the things (smug at the sight of his things mixed with Sonny’s), when he opens a box and comes to see an old record player. It’s beautiful, obviously high-end for its time, and when he lifts it out, dust follows in its wake.

Now, he has quite the collection of records, but he hasn’t had a player in a while. He had one, but when it broke, he couldn’t ever find the time to either fix it or buy a new one. He wasn’t home long enough to care. He sold it not long after, telling himself he would buy a new one. His records have sat, unplayed, for a long while. He thinks, sometimes, about finally getting around to buy one, but it hasn’t happened.

He sits there, messing around with the record player, for a good ten minutes, debating putting on a record to see if it still works, before shaking his head. He goes back to unpacking, promising to come back to it after.

It’s still sitting on the coffee table when Sonny comes home. Rafael’s already asleep, though, since it’s nearly four in the morning, and he mumbles a hello when he feels Sonny crawl into bed. He doesn’t stay awake long enough to hear Sonny’s response.

In the morning, he’s in the kitchen drinking his second cup of coffee when Sonny comes stumbling out of the bedroom. He stops by the coffee table, rubs at his eyes, and blinks owlish at the record player.

“I thought I dreamt that,” he says simply.

“Hm?”

Sonny runs his fingers across the player. “I can put this in the closet,” he says in response.

“It’s beautiful,” Rafael offers.

Sonny glances up at him. “Yeah, it is. It was my grandfather’s. I loved listening to his records when I was a kid, you know? It was my favorite thing about going to visit them.”

“I have records.”

He shakes his head. “Damn thing doesn’t work. I don’t even know why I keep it anymore. It’s probably worth a lot.” He smiles then, looking at Rafael standing in the doorway in sweatpants and no shirt, and he slinks up to him, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Good morning,” he mumbles into a kiss.

Rafael allows it, but his mind is stuck on the idea of the broken record player.

He finds a place to fix it during a lunch break. He’s in court all day, possibly most of the week, so he has to wait for Sonny to leave in the morning before he takes the record player to the store. The guy looks at it, promises it’s fixable (but costly), and Rafael’s so relieved. He can’t wait to see the look on Sonny’s face.

It occurs to him, later, that to make the most of this little surprise requires a bit more effort than fixing the record player. No, he has to really go all out for this. So he texts Bella, but she doesn’t know, so he texts Sonny’s mother, who responds without asking any questions (which just means she’ll ask Sonny about it later). In his collection, he doesn’t have the record, so he spends the next week trying to track a copy down.

It’s two weeks before he can actually show off his effort. He has the record, the player’s fixed, and when Sonny texts him, saying he’s picking up dinner and will be home in twenty, Rafael times it just right. The record is just starting when the front door opens.

Sonny is confused, at first, but when it dawns on him, his eyes widen, and the food in his grasp almost falls.

Rafael swoops in to grab the bag. “Hello,” he says, kissing Sonny quickly. “How was your day?” He heads toward the kitchen, Sonny still frozen by the door. “This smells great.”

“What…” When he glances over his shoulder, he sees Sonny walking toward the record player almost in a trance. He lets his fingers run along the bottom, a lovely smile gracing his face, before he reaches for the record cover. He whirls, pointing accusingly at Rafael. “How did you know?”

He shrugs.

Sonny narrows his eyes--well, he tries to. He’s too happy right now to actually be annoyed. “I haven’t heard this in years,” he muses, turning the cover over in his hands. He puts the cover down, walking over to Rafael. “It must’ve been hell to find.”

Rafael shrugs again.

Sonny takes Rafael’s hand, tugging him away from the kitchen. “C’mere.”

“But--I’m hungry.”

Sonny rolls his eyes. “Please?” He sticks out his bottom lip, bats his eyelashes, and Rafael hates him so much. He hates that this fucking look actually _works_ on him.

“Fine.” He tries to sound exasperated, put out, but the smile on Sonny’s face lets him know he didn’t quite succeed. He lets himself be dragged in the living room, and he has to fight a smile when Sonny wraps an arm around his waist, his free hand lacing their fingers together.

Rafael, for once, doesn’t argue. He follows Sonny’s lead, laughing when Sonny attempts to spin him (and almost trips Rafael instead), and it’s. It’s so _nice._ In the year and a half they’ve been together, Rafael doesn’t think they’ve ever actually danced together. They’ve never had the chance to. Besides, Rafael thinks this is better, just the two of them.

Sonny pulls him close, kissing his temple. “Thank you,” he mumbles.

Rafael lifts his head, giving Sonny a kiss. “Not a big deal,” he says, kissing him again. “And as wonderful as this is, I really am starving.”

Sonny laughs. “Alright, fine. Go. Eat. Leave me all by myself.” He says even as he follows Rafael to the kitchen. He hops on the counter, feet swinging, and he watches Rafael make their plates. He keeps poking Rafael with his foot. Every time Rafael looks over his shoulder, he gives him this innocent look.

First chance he gets, Sonny hooks a leg around Rafael, reeling him between his legs. He locks both legs around him once he’s pressed against him, arms draping around his neck. “Hey,” he says.

“I was promised food,” Rafael remarks. “You got your dance. This was not agreed to.”

“Hey,” Sonny says again, hand drifting to the back of his head, running his fingers through the hairs there. “Seriously. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

Sonny shrugs, his free hand tugging at Rafael’s shirt. “I love you.”

“Te amo querida.” He cradles Sonny’s face in his hands, pressing a wet kiss to Sonny’s cheek, who wrinkles his nose at the sensation. “Sí, sí, sé que eres linda. Can I eat now?”

Sonny juts his chin out, wordlessly asking for a kiss, which Rafael gives happily, and then he releases his hold on Rafael. “Yes. Go eat before you wither away.”

“Thank God. I’m skin and bones here.” His back is turned, but he _knows_ Sonny is fighting a response. Good, he thinks. Maybe he should just put the record on every time Sonny has something smartass to say. It’d save them a few fights for sure.

Sonny humors Rafael, letting him finish eating, before he drags him to the couch to thoroughly thank him for fixing the record player (and if this is the thanks he gets, Rafael thinks, he definitely needs to play the record as much as possible).

***

Liv somehow ropes him into shopping. No, he knows how it happened. She used him. She manipulated him into it. She lured him in under false pretenses.

Liv mentions, toward the end of their pleasant lunch, that she has to buy a present for Jesse’s birthday in a few days, and would he mind going with her? To keep Noah entertained while she shops? At his look, she even promised to buy them both ice cream if they behave (Rafael refuses to think too much into being lumped in with a toddler).

But Sonny is with Rollins and Fin (some gaming thing, because it went so well the last time they went), so he has a free Saturday. It’s why he shrugs and says why not? It’s not like he has more important places to be (he could be working, true, but Sonny thinks he works too much, and he’s trying to not spend the rest of his life stressed).

“How old is Jesse again?” Rafael asks in the store. Noah’s gripping his hand, pointing at all the bright colors and touching anything he can reach.

“She’s turning two,” Liv responds. She’s flipping through the clothes.

“Sonny mentioned a get together,” he mentions, gently tugging Noah back to his side when he tries to wander toward the giant teddy bears. “Wednesday, right?”

“Seven o’clock.” Liv gives him a stern look. “Don’t be late.”

“With Sonny? I’m sure we’ll be the first ones there.”

Liv gives him a smile. “Good.”

There’s insistent pulling at his hand. When he looks down, Noah’s pouting up at him, pointing at the teddy bears, bouncing excitedly, and, wow, okay, he’s seen Sonny do something similar. Good to know he’s dating someone with the enthusiasm of a child. He gives Liv an exasperated look as he says, “We’re going to look at the stuffed animals. Because I’m a babysitter now.”

All Liv says is, “Have fun.” She doesn’t even look at him.

He rolls his eyes. He takes Noah over to the teddy bears, letting him flop onto one, giggling as he sinks into the fur. The thing’s bigger than he is. Apparently, perfect for a child to play.

Rafael watches, itching to take out his phone, and he’s leaning against a shelf, glancing around, when he catches sight of a ridiculous pink shirt with Mets written across it. And he cocks his head to the side, trying to figure out if he should bother, but he also knows Sonny (and Bella) would die if they saw it. It’s something Sonny would absolutely buy for his niece.

No. This is stupid. He does not need to buy a Mets shirt for Bella’s daughter. He does not-- _will not_ \--give in to the thought of how happy it’d make Sonny. No. He needs to draw the line somewhere. No, no, no.

He sighs. He’s gonna buy it. Sonny’s gonna be insufferable. This is why he doesn’t like shopping anymore.

Liv, when they’re going to pay, raises an eyebrow at the shirt in his hand. “Amanda’s not a Mets fan.”

He gives her a bored look in return. “It’s not for Jesse.”

Liv stares at him, thinking, and when it clicks, she goes, “Oh.”

Though she doesn’t add anything, he knows this conversation isn’t over. God, it’s so far from over. And he has no clue what he wants to say. This was a horribly stupid idea.

They’re eating ice cream, Noah swinging his feet happily between them, when Liv brings it up again.

“The shirt’s cute,” she offers, cautiously, like she’s afraid she might push him too far.

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“I bet it’ll look cute on Bella’s daughter. Anna, right?”

“Yeah.” He sighs, shaking his head. “It’s stupid.” He’s bought things for Sonny’s family before, but always with Sonny present. He’s never bought something for Sonny’s family _just because_. He doesn’t like how soft he’s getting.

Liv smiles knowingly at him. “Well, I won’t say a word about your lapse in judgement.”

“Yes, thank you.”

She laughs at his dry tone. “Oh, lighten up, Rafael. You’re in love. I’m surprised it took you this long before you started making romantic gestures.”

“This, _this_ , is not a romantic gesture. This is a temporary moment of insanity. Love has clouded my judgement, and I don’t like it.”

She rolls her eyes. “I hope you’ve never said that to Sonny.”

“Of course I haven’t. Have you met him? It’d break his heart, and then I’d have to deal with the aftermath. It’s a lose-lose for us all.”

When they stand to go, Liv gives him a hug, saying, “Love is a good look for you.”

He huffs at that, but he’s fighting a smile. God, he really is becoming soft. His mother would have a fit.

Rafael, when gets home, shoves the bag in the closet and forgets about it. He sits himself in his office and leaves only when Sonny comes home tipsy.

But of course, it’s less than a week before Sonny finds the bag. Rafael isn’t actually home when he finds it, working in his office, because it’s the middle of the workday. It’s a relatively quiet day, so when he hears Sonny’s voice outside, talking to Carmen, he actually perks up.

Sonny looks confused when he enters the office. “Hey.”

“What’s with the face? I haven’t changed since this morning.”

“What? Yeah, no, it’s not you.” He comes around the desk, planting his ass on it like he owns it, and he leans over for a kiss. “Hey, so, you know Jesse’s birthday was yesterday, right?”

Rafael raises an eyebrow. “Did you hit your head or something? I spent the whole evening with you.”

“No, I know that. It’s just that I found...well, here.” He lays the shirt on the desk, glancing at Rafael nervously. “Amanda isn’t a Mets fan.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“What?”

Rafael waves him off as he sits up, laying a hand on the shirt. “Sonny, I want you to think about this. I know that’s asking a lot from you, but try for me, okay?”

Sonny squints at him. “So you did buy it for Anna,” he says simply.

“I don’t know why. But it’s yours to handle now. Give it to Bella next time you see her or Anna’s birthday, I don’t care. It’s your responsibility.” He goes back to his files, fully aware of Sonny’s eyes boring into him. “Please spare me, Detective. I don’t wish to go into the boring details of my psyche.”

Sonny surprises him by kissing his cheek. “Thank you,” he mumbles. He clears his throat, standing, taking the shirt with him. “Hey, Bella wants to go to a game next week. Wanna come with us?”

Rafael isn’t a fan of sports. He’ll watch games with Sonny, but he’s more than happy for Sonny to go with Rollins or Fin. But the way Sonny’s looking at him, with such love and adoration, he knows he can suffer through one game. “Will there be alcohol?”

“Should I be offended you have to drink to spend time with me?”

“Possibly. Yes, I’ll go. Only if you promise to not tell Bella who really bought the shirt.”

“Why? You afraid of actually being seen with a heart?” Sonny kisses him. “You just gotta ruin all my fun, huh? I promise to let Bella think you’re a Scrooge. No one will ever know you have a heart of gold, Rafi.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Sonny snorts as he leaves.

***

Sonny gets shot. Sonny goes to work early in the morning, kisses a sleepy Rafael before he leaves, and it’s three hours later that Liv’s calling Rafael, telling him not to worry. It’s nothing serious--a bullet wound in his left arm. Nothing vital is hit, the doctors say he’ll have no problems regaining full capabilities, and Sonny is allowed to go home the next day.

Liv gives him time off, so with Sonny home basically all day, Rafael tries to work as much from home as he can. It’s good. Sonny gets the chance to relax (as much as he can with a bullet wound in his arm), and Rafael finally has an excuse to go home early.

And then, by week number three, Sonny’s going crazy. He’s cooped up, he doesn’t have anything productive to do, and he’s driving Rafael up a wall. Instead of coming home early, Rafael’s started walking on eggshells. He leaves early, comes home late. It doesn’t help with either of their moods.

Sonny spends a week with his parents on Staten Island. He brought it up, over an otherwise quiet dinner, and Rafael all but pushed him out the door. They talk, text mostly, while he’s gone, and Rafael can feel himself relax. Sonny’s healing, just as the doctors hoped, and maybe in a week or so, Liv will let him back on desk duty. For now, though, Rafael hopes the time with his parents will calm him, give them both a chance to take a deep breath before they kill each other.

The day before Sonny’s coming home, Rafael decides to buy him a tie. It can go either way, really. Sonny might either love the tie or get all depressed again because he can’t be out there with the rest of the squad yet. And then he’ll get frustrated and upset and angry again. Which will lead them right back to where they were before Sonny left.

When Sonny (and Liv) text him, telling him that Sonny’s back on desk duty Monday morning, he knows the buy was worth it.

Rafael’s on the couch when Sonny comes in, and for the first time in what seems like forever, he’s relaxed and smiling. Rafael can’t resist going to greet him.

“I’m sorry,” Sonny says immediately after their kiss breaks. “I’ve been a dick. My mother slapped some sense into me.”

Rafael shakes his head, raising a hand to cup his jaw. “No, mi amor, don’t be sorry. I’m not mad at you. In fact…” He grabs Sonny’s hand, tugging him toward the couch. He picks up the tie, giving it to Sonny. “A peace offering.”

Sonny’s smile starts to slip. His eyes flicker between the tie and Rafael. He looks like he’s fighting himself, biting back his tongue, before he finally takes a deep breath and says, “I appreciate the gesture.”

“But…”

“ _But_ you can’t buy me something every time one of us fucks up.”

An eyebrow shoots up. “Can’t I? And this isn’t an apology gift. This is a...a back-to-work gift. Something you can wear on Monday.”

Sonny still looks anxious. “Rafi, really. I love all the presents, I do, but you don’t have to all the time.”

“You’re right. I don’t _have_ to do anything. I choose to. Because I love you, and you deserve nice shit.” He rocks up on his toes to press a kiss to his lips. “You don’t have to accept it. It’s not to make you feel bad.” He sighs. “Come here.” He sits back on the couch, tugging Sonny down onto his lap.

“I’ve been nothing but a jerk to you for two weeks, and you still bought me a new tie.” He sounds awed, like he can’t believe how lucky he got. Rafael thinks, one day, he’ll correct him, tell him who’s the real lucky one in this relationship.

“You were shot, baby.” Rafael’s been trying not to think about it, has spent weeks avoiding the very mention of the wound, and even now, when he’s the one to say it, he has to fight the urge to shudder. “You get a free pass on being a dick to me. Just this once.”

“So if I get--”

“If you finish that sentence, I’m kicking you out.”

Sonny grins at him, eyes crinkled, and he drapes the tie around his neck. “Okay, but this means you have to let me buy you stuff, too.”

“With your fashion sense? I think not.”

Sonny snorts, kissing Rafael quick. “I love you, too. Thank you for the tie.”

“Of course, cariño. Anytime.”


End file.
